I had to find something “clean” to share with everyone because most of his standup is R A U N C H Y and full of cuss words, but I am here for this. Think Dave Chappelle and Richard Pryor had a love-child. It would be Ali Siddiq. The backstory for him is to be respected. He has been through so much, and I am happy to see him take his pain, form it into a method of therapy he can share with others, and become successful.
If you want to see some more of his hilarious delivery, go here.
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I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing, as I discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
Flash Fiction: A Wayne Donald and Kinley Chris Adventure
The image above is by Erwin Bosman on Pexels. It depicts three chickens perched on a branch. The chickens appear to ascend in height from left to right; the leftmost chicken being mostly brown, the one at center being mostly white, and the rightmost being mostly black.
Wayne Donald stares outside their upstairs bedroom window. She is scratching the curly, messy knot of hair on her head while she huffs and breathes outwardly in exasperation.
“You gon’ tell Charlie ’bout them chickens of theirs cluckin’ about in the yard again, Kinley Chris, or do I have to put on my knickers and go on over there and do it myself?”
Wayne Donald is in rare form this morning. It is a raging hot Sunday in the depths of the South, and wandering chickens are the last things she wants to deal with the day before going back to school. The girls had been out for Christmas break, enjoying every moment of freedom their grandmother would allow, and now… the countdown to back-to-school has begun.
“Who out there?! Which ones? Some, I don’t mind. I put some chicken feed out near the fence yesterday morning—might be sopping that up.”
“Looks like Helen, Lucy, and Quack.” She squints her eyes to look closer outside of their upstairs bedroom window—zooming in with imaginary binoculars. “Yeah… that’s definitely Helen, Lucy, and Quack.”
Kinley Chris looks up from an adventurous book she had been reading, keenly stares at her younger sister, and nods in approval.
“Long as it’s not those other demon birds, I say, let them be. Charlie Rhett and ‘nem are at church anyway at this hour. It ain’t no need bangin’ on their door about some harmless chickens just cuz you don’t like the way they cluck.”
“They irritate me, Kinley Chris, and I just can’t take it. Why you gotta put that chicken feed out on Sunday mornings when I wanna sleep in?”
“Who are you to tell me where and when to put chicken feed, Wayne Donald? It’s late morning, and you shoulda been up about an hour ago anyway. Don’t get on my bad side before noon.”
Wayne Donald shuffles off to her bed, plops her flimsy body back down, tucks her face underneath the sheets, and fake-sobs. Through the sheets, she continues her argument with her big sister.
“I’m just sayin’… they cluck and squawk and make so much noise while they’re eatin’, Kinley Chris. How can you even read with all that racket walkin’ in through the window?”
“You were just up, Wayne Donald. You could’ve closed the window, silly. They aren’t that loud, and it’s too early to be complainin’. Get yourself a few more winks in, and I’ll go downstairs in a bit and fetch us some breakfast. If Helen, Lucy, or Quack laid some eggs, we’ll have us a mighty fine batch of eatin’.”
To this, Wayne Donald does not debate. She turns over, snuggles up into a ball, and closes her eyes. “Fifteen more minutes,” she says. “Fifteen more minutes.”
This piece is my offering for this week’s Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge, #353.I love it when these two sisters start speaking to me. When I saw the prompt roll out this past Monday, and those chickens staring back at me, I said, “Ha! Wayne Donald and Kinley Chris,” so here we are. Thank you so much for reading.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing, as I discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
My best friend and I went to see The Grinch in theaters in 2018. This particular scene made me guffaw loudly in the theater, and I just couldn’t stop laughing. My tickle-box had been activated, and I laughed for at least fifteen minutes.
Mook (my best friend) looked at me with red in her eyes at first, but after hearing me laugh for so long, she started laughing, too. She finally said to me, “You so damn silly”, and we laughed some more.
To this day, I cannot watch this scene without laughing until I cry.
It’s the screaming goat for me every single time! 😆🤣😂
I hope this holiday allows you to reach into your heart and let your inner child be free. Today is a GREAT day to do so.
Bonus funny clip:
Sing 2: Meena Falls in love with Alfonso
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing, as I discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
You will never have to twist my arm or convince me to purchase a book of poems by Bartholomew Barker. If he’s writing them, I’m buying it. Some people master structure, line breaks, wordplay, and intensity all in one go with their poetry, and Bart is one of those people.
I assure you, reading about dinner, drinks, and dessert will never be the same. You’ll find yourself thinking you can actually undress a glass of wine, see full and supple breasts in a bunch of tomatoes, and hear heaven’s angels sing while you’re baking a fresh batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies.
It was a pleasure to read and review this chapbook, which I did on both Amazon and Goodreads.
Serve Me a Symphony of Purple in a Glass
I knew that I would not be disappointed as soon as I opened “Milkshakes and Chilidogs”, and began reading. Barker has a way of working language, playing with phrases and rhythm, so that his poetry not only sticks with you, it is pleasing to the ear when read aloud.
His line breaks are intentional and powerful. Every stanza is a welcome wave of sighs of relief for a reader and writer of poetry.
There are so many quotable phrases throughout this chapbook such as:
“I keep time with an hourglass because I prefer the shape.”
“Sunday morning pancakes start out pale like her skin in early spring.”
“Tomatoes Firm as your breasts Red as your lips On a night out Drenched in Merlot.”
And this doesn’t even begin to scrape the surface of his brilliant use of form and structure. I loved everything about this offering except for the fact that it’s not long enough.
I would have loved to see a formal book of poetry regarding dinner, drinks, and dessert, especially if they’re going to be written by Bartholomew Barker.
Currently, at just $1.99 for Kindle and $5.45 for paperback, Milkshakes & Chilidogs is far beyond affordable and worth so much more. If you’re looking for a stocking stuffer for a few of your wordsmith-like friends, this chapbook would make the perfect gift!
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing, as I discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
Bones… a show I can watch over and over again–the reruns are salve; balm for my crowded mind–a distraction.
sometimes, on heavy days, a distraction is what I need.
to witness complex cases, albeit fatal fiction, I disappear in their plot twists and fall victim to their endings.
funny how the things that gross me out in my dreams invigorate me while I’m awake.
who’s murdering who is more than a pertinent question, it’s a means to an end.
AI-Generated Image: A Black woman with locs, wearing glasses, semi-doubled over in pain.
a body for sale (on clearance)
I’m at an age now when a hard and awkward sleep can throw my back out or a sneeze from the depths of my soul can summon tinnitus.
the body is a weird thing to observe. how fragile we can become when we think we’re at our strongest.
we can be swiftly reminded of just how easy it is to injure oneself without force or torture. depreciating value…
like a brand new vehicle the moment you drive it off the lot.
clearanced and marked down, wanted only because we’re now cost-effective and a hot commodity.
everyone wants the cheapest version of you.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing, as I discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
Photo by Reba Spike on Unsplash. The image depicts a fluffy tabby cat floating through the air. It appears the cat is suspended in midair by ten red heart-shaped foil helium balloons, the strings of which can be seen near his midsection. The sky in the background is a deep blue, with clouds scattered throughout.
“Kinley Chris, you see that fat cat anywhere down there? Grandma said it rushed outta the art room after knockin’ over her famous vase, and now I can’t find it nowheres!”
Wayne Donald shouts from the top of their ancient staircase down to her sister near the basement. She is standing on her tiptoes with her right hand on her hip, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
“Wayne Donald, girl, you better stop that yellin’ at the top of them stairs like that before Grandma come huntin’ for ya. I don’t see that fat cat down here, and it shouldn’t come this far anyway. Check the bedrooms and then the two guest bathrooms. It’ll probably pop up again when it’s supper time.
Wayne Donald searches each guest bathroom, bedroom, and then circles back around to the staircase, wandering down the hall toward their grandmother’s bedroom. With each step, she grows curiously curiouser as to where their tabby could be.
“Bruce Dennis! You fat cat, where are ya? BRUCE D-E-N-N-I-S!!! Where are ya, Bruce Dennis?”
Just like the girls, their fluffy and pleasantly plump tabby cat is double-named with what most people would consider a name fit for a man; however, the cat is female. On a somber and stormy night, the cat, who was then a kitten, found its way to their front door. The girls heard something scratching at it lightly. They begged their grandmother to walk to the door with them to see who it could be. When they peeled back the squeaky door, to their surprise, the kitten sat there with the most pitiful look on its face. The girls pleaded to keep it, and their grandmother approved.
They screamed names back and forth until finally, Kinley Chris chose the name Bruce, and Wayne Donald selected Dennis. Their grandmother nodded and tutted them with her hand to get the girls out of her hair. Bruce Dennis had become a part of their family.
“Bruce Dennis! Brucie! Where is that cat?”
Wayne Donald walked deeper into the bowels of her grandmother’s bedroom and slowly approached the old window. Upon looking outside, she gasped. Hanging at least 450 feet in the air was Bruce Dennis, tied to a bundle of red balloons. Wayne Donald almost fainted.
“Kinley Chris! Get up here right now! I say, get on up here!” She took a moment to breathe and then scolded Bruce Dennis for being outside. “Bruce Dennis! Now, how in God’s holy name did you get out there? Where’d you get them balloons?! KINLEY CHRIS!!! I SAY, GET UP HERE NOW!”
Kinely Chris raced up the stairs, taking them by two, and ran to their grandmother’s bedroom. If she had been any faster, smoke would be at her heels.
“Wayne Donald, I declare, you’d better have somethin’ serious for me callin’ my name like you The Law.” Wayne Donald looked at her big sister, her big come-hither eyes stretching wide as the Nile River. She huffed and pointed to the window.
“Kinley Chris, you just go on and look out that there window. You just look. Bruce Dennis is floatin’ up toward heaven.”
“Bruce Dennis is doing WHAT?!”
The girls stood at the window, both of them flabbergasted by the scene before them, and shocked at just how peaceful their fat cat appeared. They looked at each other and within seconds knew exactly what to do…
“GRANDMA, BRUCE DENNIS IS ALL RED BALLOONED OUT AND IS ON HER WAY UP TO HEAVEN!”
Their grandmother sat peacefully in her art room, playing her jazz records and tapping her feet. She tutted the girls silently to herself and shooed their summoning with her hand.
A Cornered Gurl 
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